


What Is a Nightmare?

by thecheeseburgercat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dreams, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Prisoner of Azkaban, RS Fireside Tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecheeseburgercat/pseuds/thecheeseburgercat
Summary: What is a nightmare?The rumbling of a subconscious?The numbing of a tired mind?Or, perhaps, can a nightmare be rooted in the workings of our conscious world?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19
Collections: RS Fireside Tales Vol.3





	What Is a Nightmare?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the wonderful RS Fireside Tales fest. This fest has always been one of my favourites, and I'm so happy I could be a small part of it this year. Much thanks to [Lynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperOfTheHeart925/pseuds/WhisperOfTheHeart925) for the beta.
> 
> Prompt:   
> 

_Click. Click. Thunk._

The deadbolt groaned and shifted as Remus leaned his full weight on the door. _Fucking stuck again_. He turned the key slightly to the left, and then there was the soft sound of the door unlatching. He stumbled into the cottage, weary and feeling slightly drunk on the exhaustion of a long day. Shrugging off his coat, he collapsed onto his sagging sofa and tried not to fall asleep right then and there. Remus had learned from the years of loneliness that falling asleep without preparation was a bad idea. Without preparation the dreams were bound to come, and Remus preferred his sleep to be dreamless.

Preparation, in this instance, was not meditation or mindlessness. Preparation lay at the bottom of a bottle, and though he had tried other methods over the years only the bottle was enough to drive away the dreams. Everything else either had no effect or had twisted the dreams into nightmares so terrifying he would wake up shaking, screaming, and deeply thankful he lived far away from other living souls.

Shaking himself out of these muddled thoughts, Remus shuffled into the kitchen and went for the highest cupboard. He had been to the apothecary the day before, and he found that the potion worked best freshly bought—

The cupboard was bare. Bare as it was most of the month. Which couldn’t be right, he had _just_ replenished...but it was bare as bones. Remus blinked forcefully, then closed his eyes for a long second, before reopening them to still empty shelves. 

_Fucking hell, this can’t be…_

Besides being without potion for the night, he was also distraught because Dreamless Sleep was bloody expensive. Remus set aside a good portion of his budget to afford it, cutting down on meat and buying only the cheapest grains and veg, all because he needed to keep the dreams away. 

Well. If his hard earned potion had decided to up and vanish from the cupboard, he’d track it down tomorrow. He was too tired to do that right now but he’d have to make do with some sort of alternative, or else it would be the nightmares tonight. Closing the top cupboard in defeat, Remus bent down and found his boxes of tea. Cheap tea, but most days tea was just as much of a necessity as the potion. He brewed a strong cup of chamomile and drank it down quickly, hoping against hope that it would be enough. 

Soon he was overcome with a heavy wave of slumber. He had just enough energy to undress and sink into his lumpy bed before the wave took him far away. 

. . . 

Remus hovered in that hazy space between dreaming and reality until the wee hours of the morning. Half-rested, he was pulled from the realm of the dreamless by a soft shifting sound of the blankets. His eyelids dragged open against the pull of exhaustion.

There was a figure hunched at the foot of the bed. 

Remus reached for his wand and lit it, illuminating the foot of the bed. His breath caught in his throat as the rays hit the figure. 

“Hello Moony,” it croaked. “It’s been a long time since we’ve met here.”

It was Sirius, twenty-one still even though twelve years had passed. Remus hurriedly backed up in the bed until his skull _thunked_ against the headboard. Then it smiled, a wide grin showing sharpened canines. Its hair was waist-length and stringy, its skin so pale it glowed in the wandlight. But still it managed to be beautiful in a way only Sirius had ever been beautiful.

“Wh—what...what are you?” Remus whispered, clutching his wand and keeping it trained on the figure. 

“Moony… you know what I am,” it replied, grin turning downwards. “You know who I am. It’s Padfoot.”

“No—no, he’s...he’s very far away right now. He can’t...I must be dreaming...”

“Perhaps,” it said, dry lips cracking further as the smirk returned. “But either way I’m here now. Moony love, it’s been too long.” It reached out towards Remus and shuffled forward on its knees, straddling Remus’ thighs. Hands reached out to caress his face, but Remus shrunk back against the pillows to avoid them. Pale delicate hands with long fingers, but bony and twisted.

“Moony…” it murmured. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Y-you don’t need to tell me anything,” Remus stammered. “You need to leave me alone, is what you need! What _I_ need to keep going!”

“We were never very good at staying away from each other,” it replied. “Not during school, not during the war. And now you chase me away every night, when we both need comfort the most. It’s not fair.”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me about fair,” Remus hissed. “You gave up the right to talk about _fair_ when you murdered James and Lily and Peter! You _murdered_ them! Your best friends, you fucking—”

“Moony, please. Think about this logically, like you always do. It doesn’t fit. And you know that. You knew me, like no one ever did. Come with me, I’ll show you,” it said, offering forth a pale hand. 

“No…”

It grasped Remus’ hands in its own and then the room was spinning, spinning, a dizzying ride far worse than Portkey travel. Remus fought down the nausea and closed his eyes waiting for it to settle. A fierce chill took hold of his body as cold sea air surrounded him, and he didn’t need to look up to know he was in Azkaban. There was just a heavy sense of wretched despair that filled up all his senses, as if he could never be happy again. 

The thing that looked like Sirius let go of Remus’ hands. “Open your eyes, love,” it said. Remus obeyed and looked into its face, which was twisted into a terrible frown marring the handsome features.

“I’ve been here for almost twelve years now,” it started. “Twelve lonely years. It’s been eating at me, Remus. Eating me up from the inside and there’s no one to listen. I don’t blame you for turning me away every night, but I need you to just stay here and listen. Please, for once. I just need someone to listen.”

“This is a dream,” Remus said flatly, shivering as he heard a distant scream of madness from the cells beyond. “You’re a figment of my own subconscious. So sure, I’ll listen. But I won’t believe a word of it come morning. You’ll only be telling me what I want to hear.”

It nodded and took a step closer. “Alright. And I’ll be gone come morning regardless. Moony, I’m innocent. I never sold out James and Lily, but yes, I am responsible for their deaths. And I wish I could go back and make different choices. I wish I had trusted you.”

“You wish you had trusted me,” Remus parroted. “And I wish I had never gone outside under the full moon. We’ve all made bad choices. You’ve made your bed, now fucking lie in it.”

The wraith like thing cocked its head to the side, so utterly reminiscent of Sirius that Remus felt a slight tug of guilt and worse, longing. “Moony, look around you. Take it all in. Listen closely. Does anyone truly deserve a fate like this?” it whispered. 

“Yes, you do...you betrayed us…”

It shook its head and stepped closer, forcing Remus to back up against the cold cell door. “I let you down. But I didn’t betray you. I need to know where we stand before I leave tomorrow. We loved each other once, didn’t we?” It reached out to grasp Remus’ hands again, eyes so wide, so grey, just like Sirius’...

“I can’t, Sirius! I can’t listen to this!” Remus yelled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Let me out. Let me wake up, I need to wake up,” he said, eyes darting around for an exit. But there was nothing but the barred window and the closed cell door, keeping him trapped in here with the man he had once trusted with his life, with everything. Remus could never stand being trapped. The wolf didn’t like it, and right now he could feel it stirring in discontent and panic. And Sirius was still looking at him with the strangest expression, pity and fear and adoration all battling for space. It was too much, being stuck here in this hellscape with Sirius after years and years of peaceful nights. _Perhaps I can squeeze through the window bars and jump down,_ thought Remus wildly. _It’s just a dream, it won’t hurt. I’ll turn it into one of those falling dreams and finally wake up…_ He darted around Sirius’ thin form and made it halfway to the window before he heard a doglike growl from behind. Sirius pounced on him, pinning his arms behind him and holding fast. They were both shaking now, out of fear and cold and pure adrenaline. 

“Do you hate me, Moony?” Sirius demanded. Remus was trapped in his arms, Sirius’ breath hot in his ear. _Yes_ , he wanted to say. _Yes, I hate you. I’ve never trusted you. I’ve never truly loved you, because how could I have been so wrong about a person I loved._ But he couldn’t, because Sirius was all around him, holding him close, and god knows how long it had been since someone had held him.

“I miss you,” Remus choked out. “I miss you, Padfoot...”

The arms holding him close loosened and let go. Remus turned to look at Sirius’ face, but there was nothing there. Only the wailing of the wind and the damp sea air filling the cell. He rushed over to the window and looked out at the North Sea. There in the distance was a dark figure paddling out to sea. 

Then the walls of Azkaban shuddered around him and melted away in a roar of thunder, a cracking of stone and dust, and he knew no more.

. . . 

Slowly Remus woke, naked and shivering. His quilt was half tugged off the bed and his lumpy pillows had been tossed onto the floor. _Merlin’s beard, never again without the Dreamless Sleep._ The bright sunshine of morning stung his eyes as he stumbled around looking for his dressing gown, feeling just as tired as when he’d first sunk into bed. Wrapping himself up warm he traipsed into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Just as the soothing scent of tea filled the room, there was a sharp rapping at the window. The post owl bringing in the Daily Prophet, as always. Remus reached into his dusty box of owl treats and offered one to the bird, relieving it of the paper, which he tossed onto the table while he prepared the rest his breakfast. The owl hooted in thanks and flew off into the countryside.

Gathering up his tea and meager serving of eggs, Remus settled in for breakfast and unfurled the paper. His fork clattered onto the plate as he took in the photo on the front page: waxy white skin, straggly dark hair, piercing grey eyes.

His hands shook as he read the headline.

SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN

Remus carefully put down the paper, closed his eyes, and sighed.

  
  



End file.
